Keys
by nycbound122
Summary: A loud boom blasted throughout the arena and all of the lights went out. The crowd began to scream and howl. My heart was pounding in my ears. Every inch of my body was tingling with anticipation as the lights began to flash bright red. The auditorium went silent, as if everyone knew what was about to happen. And then he began to sing. Inspired by the story of POTO.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The worn out piano keys still sang cleanly in the empty auditorium. I slowly slid my fingers over the now-rough porcelain and smiled sadly. For four years I had been escaping to this dusty old back room with the weathered piano, forgotten by everyone but me. Contrary to popular belief, getting a degree in music is anything but easy, and this room seemed to be the only place that reminded me why I had chosen to study piano day in and day out. I pulled my long auburn hair back in a ponytail and then hit another chord, feeling the pulse of the piano vibrating with music. This would probably be my last day escaping to this room. With graduation in two days, I had little to stay for once I had put on my cap and gown. Then again, I had little to leave for at this point. All of my friends were busy getting amazing internships, while I was desperately willing to take any job that would move me out of small town Pullman, Washington, whether or not it was related to music.

A heavy knock resounded on the maintenance room door and I jumped, sheet music falling to the floor. Standing slowly, I said a quick goodbye to my piano. "Goodbye old friend. Thank you for keeping me sane. I only wish I could take you with me."

"Layla Parker! For the love of god! I know you're in there!" Another knock sent me flying to the door and I opened it to see a breathless face two inches from mine.

"Oh, hey Maddie."

"Were you expecting someone else? I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who even knows about this secret clubhouse of yours! I think of it as one of the privileges of being your friend for ten years."

Maddie was nearly jumping up and down with excitement as she babbled on, brown ponytail flying. I opened the door all the way to let her through the room but she grabbed my hand to pull me outside.

"We don't have time, you gotta go see Mr. Richardson right away!"

"What are you talking about?" I took Maddie by the shoulders to stop her. "Am I in trouble?"

My stomach quickly sunk. The last thing I needed was to find out I had somehow missed a requirement or pissed off my music theory teacher two days before I graduated. I had an irrational fear that just when it seemed like a sure thing, some disaster would stop me from getting my degree.

"No, no, you're not in trouble." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly Layla, why do you always assume that? I am going to help you grow a backbone if it's the last thing I do! Now come on! He's been looking everywhere for you."

Mr. Richardson's office was strategically placed next to the front door of the music building. Maddie and I had a theory this was so that he could keep note of every student rushing in the door after the hour and be sure to put them on probation if they were continuously late for classes. There were even days when he would sit in the doorway, clipboard in hand. Approaching the closed door, my heart started beating wildly in my chest. Maddie squeezed my hand and let go.

"Chill out, it's a good thing! Maybe you and Richie can even end on better terms."

"If you would just tell me what this is about, maybe I wouldn't be so nervous." I mumbled through clenched teeth.

"Sorry, no can do, this is his news." And with that, she knocked on the door and then scampered away before I could stop her.

"Come in Ms. Parker." I heard his muffled voice through the door.

How did he know I had been outside? He probably had heard our entire conversation. Shaking off my nerves, I gently opened the office door and eased myself inside. The office was immaculate, in a strangely terrifying way. I wouldn't have been surprised if he measured the distance between every pen before placing them down on the desk.

"Please sit down. I have something to discuss with you."

I was startled by how quickly he cut to the chase. I glanced at his face, settled into a consistent and sadly permanent scowl. It was impossible to tell his mood, but it was hard for me to think this could possibly be good news. I sat down cautiously, clasping my sweaty palms on my lap. After an uncomfortable silence, I opened my mouth to speak but he beat me to the punch.

"Well, Ms. Parker, how do you feel your employment search has been going?"

I frowned. This was certainly not a good way to start the meeting. And of course he already knew that things were not going well, but he wanted to hear me admit my failure.

I cleared my throat. "It has been…a struggle." I saw his eye twitch and quickly added, "However, I am extremely confident that something will come along eventually."

"It seems that eventually is today Ms. Parker."

"Excuse me?"

He stared at me as if I were asking him how to walk. "Do you want a job, or are you enjoying the thrills of unemployment?"

I hesitated. "I want a job." I spoke slowly, feeling strangely like I was about to sign a deal with the devil.

"Good. Then it is settled. I have a job for you. It is a job I am surprised they find you qualified for, but when I submitted resumes you were requested. Therefore, you will take the job." "Congratulations." He cleared his throat, as if it pained him to even say the word.

I watched as he pulled a large manila folder from his desk drawer and slid it across the desk to me. And then, as if I weren't still sitting in the room filled with questions, he pulled out a copy of _The Steinway Saga_ autobiography and proceeded to read quietly.

"Excuse me, Mr. Richardson." My voice sounded like a quiet squeak, and I reveled once again in my own insecurity. Maddie was right; I needed to grow a backbone. "Excuse me." I repeated a little louder, and he glanced up from his reading. "What is the job?"

He sighed slowly and lowered the book. "Damien Reeves needs a new pianist."

I stared blankly. "Who is Damien Reeves?"

For the first time in four years, I could see that he was caught off guard. However, the look of shock was quickly replaced as he lifted his book again. I waited, thoroughly confused. I decided to try a different tactic.

"When does the job start, exactly?"

"Next week."

My jaw dropped. "Next week? There is no way I can be starting a job next week! I still would have to find a place to live!" My mind started racing. I couldn't get my house in Pullman packed up before next week, let alone move to god knows where.

"That won't be necessary."

"What do you mean?" I almost shouted in exasperation.

Mr. Richardson gave such a lengthy eye roll that I worried his eyeballs would never make it back to the front of his head. When he did speak, it was with a finality I didn't dare question. "Damien Reeves is a singer. You will be joining his world tour. You are expected in Los Angeles by next Monday. Best of luck."

Maddie looked like a little girl on Christmas Eve as she bounced around the apartment, grabbing my belongings and throwing them into the empty suitcases littering our apartment.

"You are going to have so much fun! I mean Mr. Richardson mentioned that he had a job opportunity for you, but I never dreamed it would be touring with _Damien Reeves_! You are so lucky!"

"There is no way I can go!" I started pulling out the items she packed, placing them back on their shelves.

Maddie stopped dead in her tracks. "There is no way you are turning this down. Layla Parker, this is a dream come true! Anyone would jump at it! It serves me right for choosing stupid sports medicine. I would give an arm and a leg just to be in the same room as _Damien Reeves_!"

"Why do you keep saying his name like that?" I sighed, sinking down into the couch.

Maddie quickly followed suit, grabbing her laptop. "Because, Layla, _this _is Damien Reeves."

She pulled up a fansite showcasing a giant picture of a man who I assumed to be Damien Reeves standing in front of one of those big printed backdrops they have at premieres and award ceremonies. He was tall and muscular, a lock of dark brown hair falling into his green eyes. He looked like standing in a tux was about the last thing he wanted to be doing, but he was definitely attractive. Alright, he was hot. Even with a frown on his face I could see why Maddie was on cloud nine.

"Okay, so he's attractive. And he's apparently won some-"

"Three!"

"-three Grammy Awards. That still doesn't mean that I should throw my whole life away to tour with him, doing…what? Playing the piano for him? This contract doesn't even make any sense."

"Layla." Maddie stared at me with wide eyes. "What I am about to say I mean in the nicest way. What life?! You have no life to throw away. You were graduating with no job opportunities and yet here is the opportunity of a lifetime just waiting for you. What choice do you really have?"

"But you're my family, Maddie. How am I supposed to leave you?" Maddie was one of the only people in my life who knew about my family, or more appropriately my lack thereof. I left home at eighteen and hadn't looked back, but now the idea of leaving my only friend behind terrified me.

Maddie wrapped me up in a hug and I felt tears prick my eyes. She held me for a few minutes and I was reminded, for what seemed like the millionth time, just how lucky I was to have her in my life. And then just as quickly, she pulled me to my feet.

"Alright, you've felt sorry for yourself, you've panicked, and you've wallowed. And now its time to get up off your ass and make something happen. Repeat after me: I am going on tour with Damien Reeves."

"This is ridiculous!" I laughed, trying to pull away from her. "I can't do this!"

"LAYLA PARKER REPEAT AFTER ME OR SO HELP ME GOD-"

"I am going on tour with Damien Reeves." The words burst out of my mouth before I could stop them and I froze, eyes wide. Was this actually happening?

_I am going on tour with Damien Reeves._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It was difficult to pretend this was my first time riding first class. My jaw seemed to be dropping every five seconds as I realized my seat not only went all the way back, but also included a footrest. There was even a television screen on the wall in front of me. It seemed that the Damien Reeves tour was pulling out all the stops. Honestly I was surprised they even wanted me after all of the hell I had given them trying to figure out the details of my contract. It was already obvious that this job would be less glamorous than it appeared. I would be sharing a tour bus with seven other members where we would live, eat, and sleep. After every two weeks, there would be two days off with no travel or shows for the cast and crew to recuperate. The more I read through the contract, the more I realized I knew nothing about touring. What I could tell was that this next year of commitment would be anything but relaxing. And then there was my job description. As the plane prepared for takeoff, I read my copy of the signed contract once again:

_When Anthony Miller is unavailable for Mr. Reeves, I will hereby commit to being available to play rehearsal accompaniment for the duration of time Mr. Reeves deems necessary. _

I assumed that Anthony Miller was another rehearsal pianist available for Damien Reeves, which would take some of the burden off of me. But what did "for the duration of time Mr. Reeves deems necessary"? Could he call me in whenever he wanted for as long as he wanted? This seemed more like slavery than employment. Everything about this job so far screamed bad idea, except for one vital element: the money I made in my one-year contract would be enough to cover all of my student loans. I could be debt free by next year, and for the first time I could actually take care of myself without feeling like I was one missed bill from living on the street.

So here I was on a plane to California with no idea what I was getting myself into. Taking a drink of my first class champagne to calm my nerves, I pulled my purse onto my lap and rifled through it for my people magazine. Flying was the only time I sunk to the level of buying trashy magazines. There was something about trusting a steel coffin to carry me thousands of feet above earth that just didn't sit well. Flipping open to the center, I was faced with a full page spread. _Damien Reeves Opens Up._

There he was.

It's a small wonder I had no knowledge of his celebrity before now, considering how rarely I ever immersed myself in pop culture. Reading though the article was entertaining but thoroughly devoid of actual information. When it came to his style of music, view on politics, or clothing styles, he came across as an open book. However, it seemed that every time a question came up about his past or family life, that charming and relaxed quality would disappear he would abruptly change the subject. And even more surprising was how the interviewer let him. He was in control of the path of the interview from the first question to the goodbye. I shut the magazine, somehow feeling even more uneasy.

Removing a remote from the side pocket of my seat, I turned on the television screen and started flipping channels. And of course, one of the first programs I flipped to was _Damien Reeves – Live in Concert_. This seemed like one of those times where you hear about a thing once, and then see it everywhere. I changed channels with a groan and finally landed on an old replay of _Friends_. Finally something familiar.

As expected, watching the old childhood show was the perfect remedy and my nerves finally started calming down. Two glasses of champagne later, my eyelids grew heavy and the cabin around me began to darken.

It seemed like I had only blinked when the ding of the plane speaker jolted me awake. I began collecting my bags as the stewardess' voice carried through the cabin.

_Attention ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Los Angeles. It is currently 10:00 p.m., sunny and 83 degrees. We thank you for flying with…_

I could not have gotten off the plane fast enough. It had been three hours of anticipation and now I just wanted to get to the tour bus and be done with it. I reached baggage claim and was immediately approached by a middle-aged man holding a small sign with "Parker" written on it.

"Are you Layla Parker?" 

"Yes, I am."

"Nice to meet you, I'm James. I am to drive you to the DR bus." He seemed nice enough, but I was still surprised that he was even here.

"That's great …I thought I was just supposed to take a cab."

"Not necessary. We prefer to keep our locations as confidential as possible. Are these all of your bags?"

"Yes." I glanced down at my small suitcase. The rest of my things were in a storage unit in Seattle waiting for the next time I could have a permanent residence.

"Excellent." Before I could protest, he took the bag from me. "Come with me, please."

The white Audi was parked right outside of the airport, next to the curb. It was clearly not a parking space, but no one seemed to mind. James opened the back passenger door for me and I waited as he loaded my suitcase into the trunk. He quickly climbed into the driver's seat and gunned the engine with an unexpected force. In seconds we were weaving around traffic on the freeway, cutting through to the exit at the last minute, and pulling into a dark lot surrounded by chain link fencing. This could easily be the location of my murder. We stopped by a gate where a man in black approached, and James leaned out the window and whispered several words. I heard a mumbled response and we pulled through. He leapt out of the car and removed my suitcase. I hesitantly followed as he pulled it towards a lighted area where three buses seemed to come together.

"You will be staying here for the night and then in the morning we will be on the road again for Las Vegas." He stopped in front of one of the dark buses and propped open the door. "You will be staying on this bus. The girls inside will help you settle in, I'm sure." He lifted my suitcase up the step and then shook my hand. "Welcome."

"Thank you." I watched James walk away.

I'm not sure that I was expecting a giant welcome party, but it did seem a bit uncomfortable to be showing up in the middle of the night. I hesitantly climbed the step and entered a whole other world. Lined up in the narrow bus were eight bunks stacked in twos with private curtains. It seemed that all of the visible ones were occupied by supermodels.

"Hello?" A few of the heads turned to look at me, while others were either invested in their books, headphones, or didn't seem to care. There were several polite nods and "hellos" but it was clear I would be on my own. I glanced around nervously, trying to determine which bed would be mine.

"Hi Layla!" I whipped around to see a bright faced girl with wild blonde curls standing behind me. She immediately pulled me in for a hug. "I have been looking forward to meeting you all day! My name is Danielle; you can call me Dani. I am one of the backup dancers for Damien."

"It's nice to meet you." I smiled warmly.

So that was the reason for all of the perfect looking girls - dancers for the tour. I would have to keep my confidence in check in order to feel halfway decent about myself amongst them all. Dani picked up my suitcase and hauled it into the back of the bus, throwing it onto the top bunk.

"Your bed is above mine! I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for a bunkmate. It gets lonely in the back. I was so excited when I heard you would be joining us. What is it you're doing again?"

She jumped back onto my bed without a second thought and crossed her legs, patting the spot next to her for me to join. There was a confidence about her that immediately reminded me of Maddie, and I felt a pang of homesickness.

"I am a rehearsal pianist." I plopped down next to her.

"Oh! You are the backup for Anthony!" She rolled her eyes. "Good luck with that. I always hear him complaining about Damien calling him in the middle of the night to play for him. Apparently he writes best in the wee hours." She smiled. "Good thing we have a coffee maker on the bus! I'll help you overdose on caffeine."

"What's...Damien like?" I looked down at my lap, playing with my ring.

"He's…elusive." She frowned. "Honestly, I have been working with him for a year now and I feel like I don't know him at all. He doesn't talk very much, and I've heard he's just really private in general."

"Oh." More vague answers. It seemed that he had kept his company in the dark just as much as his interviewer in the magazine.

"Well, I'm sure you'll want to get some sleep. We leave at four in the morning tomorrow, and it's not easy to sleep on the road. Hal is a great driver, but it only takes one sharp turn for you to end up on the floor." She laughed and gave me a pat on the back as she hopped down. "I really am so excited to have you here. I hope we can be good friends." She covered the side of her mouth with her hand and whispered, "Most of these stuck up dancers are real bitches."

I laughed as she disappeared onto her own bunk. Maybe this wouldn't be so overwhelming. I had made it here after all. I surreptitiously pulled the curtain around my bed and changed into boxers and an old shirt. Crawling under the covers, I turned off the light next to my bed and lay in the dark, listening to the murmurs of voices and dull thud of bass in a headphone. For the first time, I felt a tinge of excitement. Maddie was right; this could be the adventure of a lifetime.

Who knew what tomorrow would bring.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" I squinted as the curtain was pulled back and sunlight hit my eyelids.

"What time is it?" I asked Dani sleepily.

"Four. We are running a little late but I think we'll be leaving soon. I thought I would give you a quick tour of everything before we left. _And _I brought you coffee."

Realizing it was too soon in our friendship for me to show my morning crankiness, I plastered on a smile and sat up, happily accepting the coffee cup.

"Let me just fix myself up a bit?"

Dani nodded, shutting the curtain again. I quickly changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a loose v-neck, pulling my curls back into a loose ponytail. I found a compact in my purse and put on a light coat of mascara and lip gloss. At least now I could make a decent impression on anyone new I met.

I stepped out of the bus and into the sunlight, the heat hitting me immediately. Thank god for air conditioning, or else I'm sure it would have been difficult to sleep through the night.

"So this is obviously our bus."

Dani gestured to the bus behind us. It was black and unmarked with tinted windows, although there was a small white cursive "DR" scrolled in the corner. The general passerby would have no idea it belonged to a concert at all. I nodded and followed her across the lot to another one that looked identical.

"This bus is for the band and crew. It is a little bigger than ours and holds 12 instead of 8. You can tell the difference because ours has the "DR" printed on the side and theirs doesn't. No clue why, but it helps us from awkwardly walking in on the boys!"

Dani winked and pulled me further along to a bus with the words _Damien Reeves_ in huge lettering. Next to it was a giant photo of his face, as if he were turning around in surprise to see the camera behind him. I still couldn't get over those bright green eyes. I wondered if they were really that green in person or if his pictures were just overly photoshopped.

"All of the equipment is kept in this bus and another similar one across the lot. They are basically just storage units for the lifts, costumes, and ramps that the crew installs once we get to new locations. Oh, and this, _this_ is Damien's bus."

It was tucked in the back, significantly farther from the group. This bus looked the same as them all except silver and maybe a little larger. It made sense to me for this one above all to be unmarked. The last thing Damien probably wanted was to arouse suspicion so that crazy fans knew where he was sleeping.

"Have you ever been inside?"

Dani laughed. "Oh, god no. I don't think anyone really goes in unless there is a special reason. You probably will at some point…I think Damien's piano is in there."

I glanced behind me at the group of other buses and saw that several people were starting to mill about. They all ignored each other as they went about their own morning tasks. I wondered if this would be a lonely year. At least I knew that Dani would keep talking enough that I could never feel completely alone.

"Oh! Over there is Mick. He is Damien's manager and pretty much handles anything and everything. You should definitely meet him!"

Dani pulled me across the lot to a small, thin man who looked to be in his early fifties. He was wearing a wool sweater. I wondered how he wasn't sweltering in the hot weather, but he seemed completely comfortable and offered me a warm smile as we approached.

"You must be Layla! I was just going to try and track you down. We are so happy to have you." He reached out and clasped my hand, taking it in his own.

"I'm very happy to be here, thank you."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, I think so." I had a million questions forming in my mind, but I felt like none of them were worth bothering anyone with.

"Good. Here is your identification card." He pulled what looked like a driver's license out of his back pocket and handed it to me. _Damien Reeves World Tour Employee_. It even had the same picture as my drivers license, although I had no idea how they had gotten ahold of it.

Mick continued, "If you pull out your phone, I will give you the number for Damien, myself, and our first rehearsal pianist. Normally what will happen is that Damien will call Anthony if he needs any musical accompaniment, and so you will only be contacted if Anthony is for some reason unavailable. Please do not share these numbers with anyone else, even members of the company, and only use them as a caller ID when you are contacted. Never contact Damien personally unless it is in regard to his needing you. He is a very private person. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." I pulled out my phone and handed it to him. He held it for a few minutes, then returned it to me. "Again, we are so grateful to have you here on short notice. It is always nice to know that Damien will have everything he needs."

"Is there anything I should be assisting with when I am not working with…Mr. Reeves?"

"No there isn't." Mick chuckled. "You have one of the hardest and easiest jobs in this company. There will be a lot of down time, but when you are working it will not be easy in the least."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see." He grinned and squeezed my hands once more, then stepped away and began heading towards Damien's bus. "Oh, and Layla! Feel free to come backstage and watch the show tonight if you would like. It's a good one."

By eight in the morning we had arrived in Las Vegas at the MGM Grand Garden Arena, and everyone was already panicking that we were running late. I sat in the bus and watched the dancers around me begin stretching, while feeling entirely inadequate. I wished I could throw my leg behind my head, if only to fit in with the group.

"When do you guys get called into the arena?" I asked Dani.

"Depends. I'll probably head in around 7 to check out the space. Then we get ready in the dressing rooms. You can always come keep me company if you want."

"Thanks." I smiled warmly. "I think I'll take Mick up on his offer and watch the show. I've never actually seen Damien perform before."

Dani grinned. "I think you'll be impressed. It's a pretty incredible show. I can't imagine what it would be like to have that many fans drooling over me in one place, but he somehow has them all wrapped around his finger by the end of the first song."

As the day went on, a gradual sound began to build. It was the thrum of fans beginning to line up. By that night, the sound of screaming fans was almost deafening, even from the other side of the arena. Everyone else on the bus had left, and I was given the rare opportunity to explore my new home for the first time. We had a small fridge that was already bursting with fruits and vegetables. I figured we would be living off of food services more than anything else, because there was no room to store meals. I took a quick shower and changed into a pair of black skinny jeans with nude pumps and a sheer charcoal blouse. For some reason I was nervous. I felt like an imposter, trying to fit into this new world I hadn't even figured out yet. What I did know was that I wanted to look the part.

I approached the backstage door and nodded to the security guard, handing him my employee ID. He looked at it briefly and handed it back, nodding as he opened the door for me. I felt like a rat in a maze as I followed paper signs leading to the stage. People rushed by me, carrying handfuls of costumes, chords, and heavy sound equipment. Tensions were high, and I breathed in the familiar thickness in the air that always comes right before a live performance.

"Places, five minutes to go!" I heard a man with a headset shout as he walked briskly down the hall.

I turned a corner, and suddenly I was in darkness. I could see heavy curtains in front of me and knew that the stage was right on the other side. Approaching slowly, I softly opened them a crack and peeked out into the lights. The noise was suddenly deafening, and I was surprised how much of the chatter was blocked out by the curtains. I was on the left side of the stage, which was at this moment empty. I felt a thrill rush through me as I imagined what it would be like in only a few minutes, when _he _walked out and the crowd went wild.

"You new?" I jumped in the air at the noise and turned, making out the dim outline of a man who looked about my age.

"Yeah, I'm Layla Parker." I reached out my hand and shook his own.

"Nice to meet you Layla, I'm Jeremy…one of the sound engineers." He chuckled. "I always recognize the new ones; you all have that same nervous glow about you."

I blushed. "Mick told me I could watch the show from back here tonight."

"Absolutely." He grinned. "This is the side where Damien makes most of his exits, so we have to rig this curtain back anyways."

He grabbed the curtain and pulled it to the side, hooking it back with a rope. The noise hit me again, this time even louder. I heard a sharp crackling and Jeremy put his headphones in.

"Yes, this is go. All systems look good. Anytime. All yours, Brad."

He dropped the headphones back around his neck and ran to the fly system of pulleys, disappearing for a moment. When he returned, he had two water bottles in hand.

He held one out to me. "Trust me, you'll want this. It gets hot back here."

"Thank you." I smiled appreciatively and cracked the seal, taking a sip.

A loud boom blasted throughout the arena and all of the lights went out. The crowd began to scream and howl. My heart was pounding in my ears. Every inch of my body was tingling with anticipation as the lights began to flash bright red.

The auditorium went silent, as if everyone knew what was about to happen.

And then he began to sing.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_In the dark I see you perfectly. My one and only desire. In my arms I feel you dance for me. You've set my world on fire._

I felt the breath leave my lungs in a flash as he sang. My heart had been electrocuted. I had to close my eyes as his voice filled the auditorium, bouncing off the walls and echoing through my body. I stood, paralyzed. Then, as I slowly opened my eyes, the lights came on in a brilliant flash.

There he was.

Damien stood in the center of the stage in a tight black t-shirt and jeans, only feet away from me. The previously silent crowd went wild, screaming with deafening volume. He smirked, standing in place as the band began to play. He waited, exerting his power over the raging fans begging for more. Finally he moved, made his way to the edge of the stage in a slow stalk. The screaming hit new heights. He tossed his hair as he spun, sweat flying in the lights, and then crouched down, leaning forward until the front row audience members could almost touch him and then backing away with a smile. He was playing the audience with every move, and they were like putty in his hands. I stood, mouth open in awe, as he danced his way across the ramps while the band played a solo. The crowd clung to him like iron to a magnet, desperate for anything he would give them. As he hit his final note, the lights blazed a vibrant blood red before going out completely.

His second song was with a guest artist…some famous singer named Missy Bryant who I remembered hearing girls at school gush over. She joined in his power ballad and the two sang to one another. The audience seemed to enjoy seeing another celebrity perform, but it was obvious they wanted Damien all to themselves and one duet was enough. Another blackout hit and then the next song began. The process continued. The audience seemed to grow even more energetic as the night wore on and I lost myself in their screams, watching blackout after blackout. The screams never stopped and the fans never tired. If anything, they grew stronger with every new song.

I realized I had been holding my breath. I looked around with a gasp. How long had the show been going on? I desperately sucked in air and tried still the pounding in my chest. It was as if I had fallen asleep, but I remembered every second of every song with vibrant detail. I jumped back as the technical team swarmed around me backstage, calling cues and grabbing water bottles and towels. This must be the last number.

The lights slowly came back up. Damien sat at a piano and began playing a beautiful ballad. I blinked in confusion. Why did he even need pianists if he could play so well himself? Slowly, lights began flickering in the audience as people pulled out their phones to wave in time with the beat. He had captured them one last time, now in the mournful cry of a broken heart.

_The rain hits your lips and I remember that kiss. But when the night comes and the thunder claps, it is him in your arms and you that I miss. You and those lips like lightening._

Tears stung my eyes and I attempted to blink them away. I peeked into the crowd and saw thousands of expressions mirroring my own. Every face in that audience was captivated. The piano blocked Damien from my view, and yet I could feel every word come off his lips like he was singing them to an empty room. The last chord rang with finality. I watched as he stood and welcomed his band to the front, all bowing for the screaming fans. I was motionless, frozen in place and still entranced. Damien took one closing bow and then made his way off the stage.

Directly towards me.

Body jolting into action, I turned and ran as quickly as I could through the backstage maze. People swarmed the hallways, rushing in all directions as the break down and packing began. Every twist of the hallway led me in a new direction, and it didn't take long to realize I had no clue how to get outside and back to the bus.

"Layla girl!"

I whipped around at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder and sighed with relief. Dani hardly looked like herself, sucked into a tight costume and buried under heavy makeup.

"Hey, are you okay?" She frowned. "Come with me, you can hang out in the dressing room while I change."

"Actually…" The last thing I wanted was to be near people. I needed time to process everything that had happened. I fumbled for the words.

"It will only be a couple minutes. I just need to hang up my costume and then we can head back to the bus. Come on."

Dani took my hand, still worried. I followed her further down the hall to a set of red doors with paper name cards. She opened the one marked "dancers – female" and blast of noise hit my ears. The room was packed and chaotic. I pulled my hand from her grasp and attempted a casual smile.

"I'll just wait out here for you." I gestured to an alcove outside the doorway.

"You sure?"

"I'm okay, really! I'll just be right here." Dani closed the dressing room door and I collapsed outside in a nearby armchair.

Alright, time to figure out what the hell just happened. What was going on with me? I was acting like a thirteen year old girl. Damien Reeves was clearly a showman. He knew how to wrap people around his finger, but that didn't mean I had to let him do the same to me. Clearly I was blowing the whole concert out of proportion.

But it was really that amazing.

There was something about the way he sang. I had never let a person have as much power over me as he did those two hours. For once in my life, I had had no control. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. I felt alive.

But now I had to get a hold of myself. I was twenty-two years old and it was time to act like it. This was a perfect example of the power of music. It was beautiful and life-changing and I could appreciate it as a fellow performer without acting like a complete idiot.

I took a deep breath.

"Oh, here she is. Hey Layla, this is-"

I froze.

"…anyway, you know him of course. I just wanted you guys to meet officially. Layla will be your personal slave to the keys as long as you need her. She is quite something." Mick finished with a smile.

I stood slowly, body tense as a board. I reached out numbly and took Damien's hand in my own. Our eyes locked for a split second and then he looked away.

"Good to meet you." He gave a nod and dropped my hand as abruptly as he had taken it, walking away. Mick smiled apologetically and followed.

I sunk back into the chair like I had been punched in the stomach.

"Hey girl, you ready?" Dani stopped in front of me and frowned. "What's wrong, Layla?"

"Nothing." I shook my head and quickly stood, grabbing her hand. "Let's go."

We hurried back to the bus, but the inside was teeming with noise and excitement. I sat for a moment and tried to fit into the chaos, but my mind was racing so fast that all I needed was quiet.

"When do we leave?" I asked Dani.

"Not for another couple of hours. They won't finish packing until two or three in the morning."

I thought for a moment. "Is there anywhere else with a piano?"

"I know there was a warm-up room inside the arena. First door on the left I think. Otherwise the only other piano is in Damien's bus."

"Thanks." I smiled gratefully and grabbed my bag, stepping out of the bus into the warm night air. The silence was a sharp contrast to the earlier noise of the crowds. My ears felt fuzzy, softly ringing. This must be why everyone backstage wore earplugs. I would be deaf in a couple months if I didn't get with the program. I crept around the crew as they carried heavy pieces to one of the buses and snuck in the back door. The first door on the left was unlocked and I sighed with relief as my eyes fell on an old upright Yamaha sitting in the corner of the small room.

Collapsing on the piano bench, I ran my fingers over the keys tenderly and then began to play. My eyes closed. I played about leaving my family, about leaving my friends, about going to the concert, about meeting Damien. I played about green eyes and pain and hope and fear and everything in between. I asked the piano how to fix everything, and the piano answered, carrying my fingers in a tornado across the keys. By the time my hands stilled I felt better. Here was something I knew. Something I could trust. I basked in the silence for a minute until it was too deafening to bear. Then I played a soft chord and started singing.

_When the ground lifts up to take me, and the shadows in the air hate me, you know where I'll go. The dust will wrap me softly, and the breath will leave my lungs. But if you reach out and touch me, my soul will come undone._

I smiled as the song took shape in my mind. This was always how it worked for me. An idea formed, a melody sunk into my brain and then the words just followed. It was a guilty pleasure that no one else knew about, not even Maddie. Getting the words out always made things seem more manageable. I stopped and started again, going on to a second verse this time.

"What is that?"

Oh god. I stilled. _Breathe._ I was afraid to turn around.I could hear his footsteps come into the room as the door closed. He stopped behind me, so close that I could feel the heat from his chest on the back of my neck. We stayed in uncomfortable silence for several seconds.

"What are you playing?"

I didn't respond. What was I supposed to say? My mouth went dry and I felt him lean over me. His chest touched my shoulder and I jumped up, knocking the bench over in the process.

"Sorry. I'm in your way." I mumbled. I walked quickly to the door and bolted out the entrance into the dark. The stars were dull in California. Even with a clear night they shone like muddled beacons, nothing like they did back in Pullman. Leaning against the brick wall of the arena, I sank to the ground and looked up to the sky.

What the hell was wrong with me?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The next week that passed was uneventful. And after how chaotically my first twenty-four hours on tour had gone, peace and quiet were fine by me. We would arrive early in the morning at our new location, the crew would set up all day, and then the show would take place that night as scheduled. After the show, the set would be packed away in three to four hours and we would be on the road again, traveling through the night. Every day of the tour was so similar that it felt as if time had stopped moving. When we arrived in Chicago, I was more than ready for a break from the constant travel. Our next stop was Indianapolis, where the tour was paying for all members to stay at a nearby Marriot for two days after the show.

"Aren't you so excited for our days off?!" Dani squealed as she took the rollers out of her hair in the dressing room of the Chicago United Center Theatre.

I made a face and reached over to start taking some of the rollers out as well. Her blonde curls bounced down her back and I couldn't help but envy just how beautiful she was.

"Layla Parker, what does that face mean? Aren't you enjoying touring?"

I sighed, leaning back in the chair next to her. "Honestly Dani, I just feel useless. I haven't done anything in the week I've been here except sleep on the bus and help you with your hair. Why did they hire me in the first place if they didn't need me?"

"I guess Damien likes to be over prepared?" Dani shook her head. "I don't know, Layla. Maybe you could talk to Mick about picking up some work with the makeup crew in between? At least then you'll feel busy."

I rolled my eyes. "I doubt I'm good enough for that."

"Well on the plus side, by tomorrow night we will both have two days off. That's two days of me being just as lazy as you!" She playfully punched my shoulder and I laughed.

"Are you going to stay to watch the show tonight?"

"No, I think I'll go back to the bus. Maybe do some yoga, read a book…"

"Yoga and reading? Wow, you are from Washington."

"Hey!" I laughed, sitting up and gave her a light shove before heading out the door. "Have a good show tonight."

After spending hours surrounded by people in confined spaces, I normally relished the quiet show time offered me. But lately, walking into the empty bus didn't feel nice. It was difficult to be surrounded by the thrum of productivity and be the only one standing still. Mick had assured me that when I was working for Damien I would be working hard. Part of me was terrified of how I would act if and when he did need me to play for him. Clearly I couldn't even be in the same room as him for more than a minute without running away, and I wasn't even a die-hard fan! I hadn't heard of Damien Reeves until a week ago, so why did he make me so terribly nervous? Our stunted encounters had left me feeling entirely inadequate and skittish, and I was furious at myself for acting weak enough in my first impressions to let him have control over me. I was no better than the millions of teenage girls fainting in the audience every night.

My mind was whirling as I started the calming music on my iPhone, and I forced myself to take some breaths as I laid out my mat. The next time I met him, I resolved to be calm, confident, and professional.

I made my way through a few sun salutations and then centered myself on my mat, putting in my headphones. I glanced at the time. _11:00_. The cast would be filtering back to the buses within the hour. I allowed my eyes to close for a few minutes and tried to hold onto that slight taste of relaxation before my thoughts picked up speed again, the gentle music carrying me away.

I jumped as Dani burst through the door with a horde of girls trailing behind her.

"Oh, sorry, were you asleep?" One of the girls asked apologetically.

"I think I just dozed off for a minute." I stood and rolled up my mat. This was the most anyone other than Dani had said to me since I got here. I smiled. Maybe the rest of the dancers were finally acknowledging me as part of the group! I watched as they all went to their separate tasks and thought better of it. I guess I would never be the same species as them. Still, progress was progress.

"The show tonight was a disaster." Dani jumped up to my bed and threw my pillow over her face.

"What happened?"

"A girl got on stage. She threatened that she had a gun and was going to kill herself. Of course she couldn't have actually had one – they check bags. But security had to remove her. It changed the whole rest of the show. Damien was pissed." Her eyes were wide. I sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Why was he so mad?" I asked cautiously.

She sighed. "He just likes having thing go smoothly. He stalked off stage and went straight to his bus, screaming at anyone that got in his way. Everyone is walking on eggshells now."

"Well, at least it's over. We'll be on the road soon and he will have plenty of time to cool off before the show tomorrow. And then we all get a break."

Dani groaned, hiding her face once again. I couldn't think of anything else to say that would make her feel better. I of all people knew how frustrating it was when a show went badly. It made me cringe to imagine what Damien looked like when he was angry. He was scary enough as it is.

"Oh! Your phone just buzzed..." Dani rolled over and found it under her. "Sorry." She smiled sheepishly.

I took it from her and frowned at the number. Then my stomach dropped.

June 22, 2013 11:57 PM

Damien Reeves:

My bus. 12:30.

-Damien

Silently, I passed the phone to Dani. She stared at it for a moment, then at me. Her jaw dropped. My heart picked up its pace. Even she looked nervous.

"Layla..."

"It will be alright." I remembered my earlier resolution and tried to put on a smile. "This will be good. I get to play piano, which is always a treat. Besides, here is my chance at a better second impression." I swallowed, feeling more confident with every breath. "It's going to be fine."

I waited until a few of the dancers had taken showers, and then went in to take my own. The hot water felt good and helped calm me down even more. This really wasn't a big deal. In fact, this is what I was getting paid to do – play the piano. I had performed for cutthroat professors and uninterested audiences, surely I could handle one grumpy, over entitled rockstar.

By the time I had dried off, it was already 12:20. I panicked. The last thing I needed was to show up late. There wouldn't be time to dry my hair, so I pulled it up in a wet messy bun.

I stopped for a precious minute and debated. Did I need to dress up? I decided against it. If I dressed up tonight I would feel guilty the next time when I showed up in sweats. Besides, it was 12:30 in the morning. I felt that a casual appearance would be well deserved at this point.

Throwing on a pair of yoga pants and a loose blue sweater, I grabbed my clutch. I figured this way I had the essentials – phone, chapstick, and ID. I snuck a glance at my phone again – 12:30. Shit.

Figuring this would be a good time to start running, I raced across our newest lot. Where was Damien's bus parked? I looked around frantically for the silver bus. I finally spotted it on the opposite side of the venue and took off towards the entrance like my life depended on it.

When I made it to the door, I stopped abruptly. I felt like I was going to throw up. Chanting a silent mantra to myself, I gathered my courage and gave a light knock.

No response.

I knocked again.

Still no answer.

_Well, shit_. What was I supposed to do now? I shook my head and reached tentatively for the handle, slowly prying open the door.

"You're late."

He was sitting on the couch in front of the door, one leg crossed over the other as his index finger ran over his bottom lip. He had been here the whole time listening to me? Seriously?

"I apologize." I murmured, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

"From now on, enter the bus without knocking. I was expecting you, why would you need to ask for permission to enter?"

He was speaking to me like I was a child. I nodded, breath hitching in my chest as stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"Over here."

He moved with a prowess I had never seen before. It wasn't just his show persona that was mesmerizing to watch. Even offstage, he was in perfect control of every muscle in his body. It was almost inhuman. Realizing he was waiting for me, I wrenched my gaze away from his and followed his gesture to the back of the bus.

There sat one of the most beautiful keyboards I had ever laid eyes upon. Normally, I would always choose the real, full sound of a piano over an artificial tone. But this one was so gorgeously built that before I knew it I had sat down on the bench instinctively. I ran a finger over a key and applied light pressure. A beautiful tone rang out in the bus and I melted. This was probably the most magnificent instrument I would have the honor of playing in my life.

"Its amazing." I whispered.

"It's a Roland RM-700." He said without a beat of hesitation. "Play something."

"I beg your pardon?" I looked up at him, once again drawn in by those green eyes. They really weren't photoshopped in those pictures. They were actually this vivid in real life.

"I don't have all night." His voice was filled with tension. He sounded about one second from exploding.

I frantically ran through a mental list of songs and settled on _Moonlight Sonata_. Taking a deep breath, I began to play.

"Stop."

My fingers halted on the keys. I had only played two measures of the piece.

"That was terrible."

Damien crossed behind me, and his fingers slammed down on the keys. A discordant scream of white keys against black wailed through the room and I jumped in spite of myself.

"Tell me, Miss Parker, are you capable of playing the piano?" My name rolled off his tongue smoothly and I closed my eyes.

"Yes." I stated. 

"Have you been trained to play the piano?"

"Yes." I spoke through gritted teeth.

"Would you then do me a great honor? And play. The. Fucking. Piano. Like. You Know. What the _hell_. You are doing?"

My fingers slammed on the keys. _Divinere_ by Ludovico Eiunaudi erupted from my fingertips. Fuck him. Fuck him and his insults. My mind went dark and I lost myself in the piano, feeling powerful and safe in the music.

The silence had been piercing through the room for…I didn't know how long before I realized the song had ended. I lifted my fingers off the keys slowly and turned to face him. His eyes were wide. He gazed at me with an expression I couldn't understand. Damien Reeves looked almost vulnerable. We were silent. When he finally spoke, I watched his demeanor snap back into rigidity in seconds.

"That was acceptable. Keep playing."


End file.
